The Towers Sang and You Cried
by Carolinus
Summary: There's a first time for everything, he once said. And now he knows that there's a last time, too. The Doctor's last night with River.


_Author's Note: Cover image is property of talented deviantArt user palnk and can be found on that user's dA page + /art/Singing-Towers-of-Darillium-299127146_

"She said the last time she saw us was at Darillium. Is that now?"

Standing there in the TARDIS, with his enormous black top hat disguising his new haircut, the Doctor stared at his past self, clad in an off-white tuxedo. He was slightly envious of all the time he had ahead of him, all the adventures yet to be had.

"Spoilers," he said, managing a half-smile. He tried to hide the fact that he knew the answer to that question – that yes, today was that day. "Good luck tonight," he added, attempting to affect an air of hope in his voice.

"You too," his past self said. He nodded, his shattered look showing that the Doctor's attempts to hide the morbid truth were completely unconvincing.

The Doctor tried to give his past self some hope by hiding behind the enigmatic answer, but they both knew all too well what lay before him. This was the last day he would see River Song. This was their last night.

The Doctor left the TARDIS with his eyes slightly misty. He hated goodbyes more than anything. He had said goodbye to the Ponds just a few months ago – or was it years? Time was meaningless when there weren't any humans around. The emotional toll that took on him was enough to make anyone want to give up. There was just one more Pond left: Melody. He had been holding onto River for so long, but he knew that the day had come. His task weighed heavily on him. It was a fixed point in time. No matter how long he traveled with her, the ending would always be the same: she would die at the Library. She was a professor of archaeology now, a distinguished scholar - no longer the erratic and unpredictable young woman she once was. She was ready for the Library. As he approached his own TARDIS, he paused at the doors, trying to gain his composure. He took a few deep breaths and entered, smiling at River.

"Hello, Sweetie!" she cooed. River was wearing her classic olive dress.

"Well, don't you look magnificent, Dr. Song," he replied, smirking.

"Oh, don't you know how to make a girl blush, Doctor," she said with a wink. "Finally, I get to see the towers! I've waited for _ages_, honey."

"I know," he said. The feelings that he thought he had left at the door were returning now, almost impossible to bear.

He approached the TARDIS, ready to pilot her to Darillium, when she softly batted his hands away. "No, no, I'll be doing the driving tonight. Just give me the coordinates."

He entered them into the keypad on the console. With the flick of a few levers and buttons, they were off. River was a wonderful pilot, as much as he hated to admit it. He sensed a sadness in the air. Even the TARDIS seemed to know that this was River's last flight.

When they arrived at Darillium, the door creaked open, as it did whenever they opened the door to a new place. They stepped out while holding hands. A vast expanse lay before them. The sky was dark, but it was peppered by thousands of stars. Three moons shone above them.

"My, the tides here must be ridiculous," River remarked. The Doctor smiled. She was always observant.

The air was warm with a slight breeze. It was the perfect night. The Doctor pulled a blanket from his infinite suit pocket and spread it out on the hill beneath them. The secluded, grassy mound was a few hundred meters from the towers, but there was still an excellent view. The massive towers jutted up into the sky like giant stalagmites, touching the heavens. They resembled the Gothic towers of Earth, but they were made of dark purple glass instead of stone. Iridescent lights from fireworks glimmered and bounced off of the towers' dark glass. There were cheers in the distance near the towers, but no one was around River and the Doctor.

"It's an outer-space Notre Dame," River said with a smile. She chattered happily, amazed by the towers. They settled on the blanket and she rested her head on his chest.

"Is that a new haircut, Doctor?" she asked when he removed his top hat.

"I was beginning to think you'd never notice," he said, tapping her on the nose.

"It's rather becoming. I like it," River said. She ran her fingers through it gently.

"I live for your approval, Dr. Song," he said sarcastically, although there was just a _hint_ of truth in his statement.

The towers began their song. It was written in a language so ancient that even the TARDIS could not translate it. Nevertheless, it was absolutely beautiful.

"I can't tell whether those are voices or instruments," River said about the singing.

"Perhaps they're voices that _are_ instruments," the Doctor answered. The singing reminded him of the songs of the Ood – they were simultaneously voices and instruments at the same time.

As the singing reached a climactic crescendo, the fireworks shimmered even more brightly in the air. They shared a bottle of champagne that she had picked up on a market on Dionysus 26, a planet known for its exquisite beverages. He hated wine, but enjoyed the champagne.

"Cheers," she said as she clinked her glass against hers.

"Cheers," he answered, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before he took a sip.

They stretched out on their backs on the blanket, staring up at the stars and listening to the Towers' songs.

"So, Doctor, what have you been up to lately?" she asked him during a lull in the song.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Seeing the universe, having mad adventures," he said. "And, erm, trying to recover from Manhattan," he said.

Her breathing stopped for a moment. It was silent. They both remembered that fateful day. The wound cut deep into both of them. The Doctor was not the only one who lost two loved ones that day. River lost her parents, too. "Oh, Manhattan," she said softly. "I'm so sorry, my love."

The Doctor winced, knowing that the pain would only be amplified in a few hours when he dropped her off at home for the last time. "Yeah, it's… difficult. 'D rather not talk about it, to be honest," he said with his eyes downcast.

"Sure," she said. She completely understood. "So, I've got a magnificent trip planned for when I get home! Have you ever heard of a planet called the Library?"

"Er, yes. Got lost for three weeks in there once!" the Doctor said, trying to lighten his mood and not allow his face to betray him.

River chuckled. "I'm the head archaeologist on an expedition for a man named Strackman Lux. There's this mysterious message that's been playing on all the signals emanating from the planet for three hundred _years_. '4022 saved, no survivors.'"

The mention of "no survivors" tore through the Doctor as if a blade had pierced his heart.

"Incredible, simply incredible. Listen, River, there's something I've got to give you," he said. "A little present, of sorts." He pulled something out from his jacket pocket.

"My, those pockets stretch forever," she said with a grin.

It was a sonic screwdriver. He had thrown it on the ground in Leadworth, shortly after his regeneration, when it burnt out. One day, while traveling alone, he returned to Leadworth to search for it in the grass of the city centre. He whisked it back to his TARDIS, where he made some repairs and outfitted it with the neural relay data chip that he knew he needed to include. Sure, it was sort of cheating, but River's life was at stake.

He handed it to her. "River, I can't tell you why you need this, but you do. There's nothing more I can tell you. Spoilers," he said with the same look in his eyes that she had when she sacrificed herself in the Library.

Though she was visibly confused, she took it from him. "Don't tell me any more," she said, mindful of how important it was to avoid knowing too much about her future.

He held her close to him and did not let go for several minutes. Tears streamed down his face. She embraced him back. The song of the Towers became loud again, and they drowned themselves in the music – she, to appreciate its beauty, he, to escape from the torment. His companions flashed before his eyes. So many had met sorrowful, morbid ends. Was all of the travelling really worth it? Sometimes he wasn't sure.

River dozed off on his chest. The Doctor lay there, looking up at the stars, trying to soak up his last moments with her. The seconds became minutes and the minutes became hours. Eventually, it was time to go home.

He nudged her awake. "River," he said. Her peaceful eyes opened and he couldn't help but smile a tortured smile when she looked at him. In all of time and space, there was never anyone quite like River.

He carried her into the blue box and placed her on a mattress that the TARDIS provided. She soundly slept while he stood at the console, hunched over the levers and buttons, contemplating their fate.

He gently awakens her again with a kiss on her cheek. He then starts the TARDIS to take her back to her office at the university where she taught. Thanks to the incident on Skaro and her subsequent pardon, he no longer has to return her to Stormcage. As they leave the blue doors, he holds her hand tightly.

They kissed good night in front of the fireplace in her office. He softly smiled at her as he pulled away. There's a first time for everything, he once said. And now he knows that there's a last time, too.


End file.
